Homesick
by SparrowsGirl101
Summary: this story takes place shortly before Barbossa's mutiny .. Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill Turner


Homesick

Setting: Shortly before Barbossa's mutiny  
Characters: Jack Sparrow, Bootstrap Bill Turner (non-slash)  
Rating: PG

The life of a pirate was, in disappointing reality, composed of far more periods of boredom at sea than hair-raising adventures. At the end of one such tedious day, Captain Jack Sparrow and his quartermaster, Bill Turner, wandered along the open deck of the _Black Pearl_, enjoying bottles of rum and the cool breeze. It had been a particularly hot day, even for the Caribbean, and the piercingly bright stars were a welcome change from the harsh equatorial sun. A light wind puffed out the intimidating black sails, which were visible more as an absence of stars than as a presence of canvas.

Jack and Bill talked of nothing in particular; mainly the everyday dealings of the ship itself. When they reached the bow of the ship, the captain decided he was tired of walking aimlessly. He nimbly leapt out onto the bowsprit and perched there with the agility of a parrot on a palm branch. Most men would have been risking their life, placing themselves in such a precarious spot while tipsy on rum, but Jack was completely at ease. He trusted the _Black Pearl_.

Not quite as blasé about the potential hazard, Bill merely leaned on the ship's railing.

They had briefly been becalmed earlier in the day. A weasely, one-eyed man in the crew claimed responsibility for getting them moving again. An old sailor's tradition held that whistling would bring wind, but most were wary to test it for fear of overdoing things and brewing up a hurricane. This particular crewman was either brave enough or stupid enough to try it, and through either magic or coincidence the wind soon returned.

"Making better time now," Bill commented, peering up at the full sails as he drank from a cloudy brown bottle.

"Aye." Jack held onto the bowsprit with one hand and used the other to both hold his rum bottle and make an unconcerned gesture. "We just might make Barbados by tomorrow noon, after all." Not that they were in a hurry to get anywhere in particular. Wherever the plunder was, they were happy.

He noticed the distant look on his quartermaster's face and squinted thoughtfully. "Yer starin' toward England again, mate."

Bill blinked, briefly startled to have been caught once more casting his eye north-by-northeast.

"Homesick?" Jack grinned, his gold teeth shining in the moonlight.

"No," Bill said too quickly. "Who'd miss the fog, and the rain, and the cold weather, and the...the..." He faltered, but his captain finished for him.

"The Sarah?"

Bill looked away. "Aye."

Jack made a disparaging noise with his tongue and shook his head. "That woman's got quite a hold on you, mate. Thousands of miles away and she can _still_ make you as moony-eyed as a schoolboy. We need to find you some 'company' when we make port, lest you lose your edge."

Bill knew Jack was just teasing. His devotion to his wife back in England was no secret. The devotion that kept him from spending his share of the plunder in brothels. The devotion that kept him from telling her that he was, in fact, a pirate. Better for her to go on believing he was still a merchant sailor.

A few moments went by with the silence broken only the swish of the sea passing beneath the ship's bow and the slurp of rum.

"What's it like," Jack said at last, "havin' so much of yer heart belongin' to another person? 'Tis a dangerous thing, y'know."

"Dangerous, aye. But...wonderful. You should try it sometime, Jack."

The captain patted the bowsprit affectionately. "I have the_ Pearl_. She's all the attachment I need. She's loyal, obedient--"

Bill rolled his eyes.

"--and she's never talked back to me."

"She don't keep you warm at night, tho'."

"True," Jack said, bowing his head at the concession. "But really, this is the bloody Caribbean, Bill. Having a warm _anything_ isn't exactly a priority, if you stop 'n' think about it. It's stayin' cool that's the trick of it, and my _Pearl_ does a fine job at that." He held up a hand in the pleasant breeze. "And she never complains when I don't give 'er trinkets 'n' baubles as tokens of my affection."

Bill shook his head and tilted back his rum bottle for another drink. "You can keep your _Pearl_, Jack. She's a fine ship to be sure, but my Sarah's the only one in _my_ heart."

"The _only_ one, dear William?" Jack said shrewdly. "I seem to recall you mentioning _one_ other the last time you got a bit of correspondence from merry old England."

Bill looked embarrassed and feigned a sudden interest in the faded label on his bottle. "You're referring to the little one."

"Unless you've got someone else in mind."

"No, no..."

"Still don't know if it's a son or a daughter, eh?"

He sighed. "Not yet."

Jack remained cheerful. "Well, I wouldn't waste a perfectly good spot of rum fretting. No doubt your darling Sarah pulled through her...confinement...with no troubles, and by the time you see her again she'll have a young one standing beside her that's taller 'n you, mate."

"In that case, I better hope for a son. I've never had a liking for tall women."

Jack laughed. "Aye, true enough."

"That's another thing I've got over on you, Captain Jack."

"A dislike of tall women?"

"The _Pearl_'s never going to give you an heir."

Jack scoffed. "And what would I want one of those for? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. My legacy'll be as the greatest pirate ever to sail the seven seas, not as the patriarch of a cozy lil' family somewhere. And my _Pearl_ will help me to that end far more than some mewling infant would."

Bill looked unconvinced.

"I keep telling you, Bill, the more people you let have a piece of your heart, the less you'll have left to keep you goin'."

The quartermaster smirked. "Perhaps, but remember...they give you a piece of _their_ heart back."

Jack considered this amid a long swig of rum. "Sounds messy." He made a fastidious gesture.

"You're hopeless."

"Not at all, mate. Hope is what bein' a pirate is all about. Hope that the big prize is just over the horizon, waitin' for you to capture it. Hope that you can make a better go of it outside the law than you did inside it. Hope that you can retire a rich man instead of swingin' from the gallows. And, in my case at this particular moment..." He tipped his bottle upside down without reward. "...hope that there's more rum below decks."

Moving with an odd, almost feline grace despite his increasing drunkenness, Jack vaulted off the bowsprit and headed toward the galley.

Bill sighed in fond exasperation at his eccentric friend and took one last look in the direction of England before following his captain below decks.


End file.
